


Scrapped Half-Life VR

by InsaneWeasel



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life, Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Benrey is a virus, Computer Viruses, Computer horror, Computers, M/M, More tags to be added, Or just really bad AI, inspired by real bendrowned fan games lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneWeasel/pseuds/InsaneWeasel
Summary: There's an .exe circulating online of a Scrapped Half-Life VR game with a too-sentient AI and a potential for killing the player according to the creepy internet stories. Everyone agrees on 3 things: the AI is weird, the game is unbeatable and the security guard will do anything to stop you from progressing.Gordon figures it's a harmless game and what's a little danger in some fun with a scary game?
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 37
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to post all my AUs, even though I'm worried that posting all the AUs will make me lose motivation for them.
> 
> So, this is based on actual phenomenon, a game called Remember.exe, a relic of the Ben Drowned fan-games that used remote-software to somewhat “hack” your computer to give you the experience of a ghost possessing your computer. If you want to know more about that lemme know! I was a naive little 14 year old boy playing it and was aware it was not a ghost, but still intrigued and mystified by it.

The graphics weren’t amazing, but the nostalgia and potential eeriness made the experience worth it. For Gordon, a single-dad wanting to experience a rare hour of freedom on some .exe game from mysterious corners of the internet, well…not all bad decisions go badly.

 _Half-Life for VR, huh. Fan-game or not, this is pretty neat._ Gordon grinned to himself as he looked at those gray and white walls, testing the controls gingerly and then with more enthusiasm once he got the swing of them.

He was as close to “in” his childhood favorite game as he could possibly be. Even the possible impossibility of completing the game as the online stories told didn’t dampen his spirits. Gordon just took it in stride and greeted the first character he saw, a friendly looking 30-something he saw who was staring at a…wall.

_Well, the stories do say most of the AI seem to be broken and odd._

“Hey there,” Gordon greeted curiously with a wave. The stories also said the AI were going to be rude and dismissive, so he waited for the cold response.

“Hi!” The NPC didn’t turn to him as he said this.

Not as cold as he thought. “What…uh…what are you doing?” Gordon asked, angling his character to look at the wall too. Nothing.

“Waiting for my eyes to stop buzzing!” The NPC told him. “I don’t want to look at anything too busy until they stop!”

Gordon supposed by some vein of logic that made sense. He looked around and then back to the NPC. Well, he was the only one around. “How’d your eyes start buzzing?” The man’s eyes didn’t look odd. Maybe this file was modified by someone who had enough time, energy and humor to modify the voice lines and coding.

“I drank too much soda,” the man said with a small bit of sadness, and Gordon saw his mouth twitch down into a frown.

“Oh,” Gordon had got a migraine from too much caffeine before too. Poor NPC. “That’s rough. Want me to get you—”

“What are you doing?” Someone interrupted. Gordon glanced over. Down the hall there it was, a security guard. _The_ security guard? Could be this the AI that everyone talked about? The creepy too sentient AI?

Gordon gestured to the NPC next to him. “I’m just talking to uh...uh…”

“Tommy!” the NPC staring at the wall introduced.

“Uh, Tommy here—”

“Not you,” the AI cut him off. The guard was staring at Tommy. Tommy didn’t look at Gordon or the guard, still staring at the wall. The guard seemed unnerved, but his eyes went to Gordon.

“So, uh—” Gordon started.

The guard shot him.

Instant kill.

Gordon stared at the game-over screen dumbly. So, that part of the whole “Scrapped Half-Life VR” Creepypasta wasn’t a lie. The guard really could just one shot you. But he had another hour of free-time and some determination.

Gordon reloaded his game.

This time he spent a little less time looking around and went to the hallway he’d seen the talkative NPC, Tommy. No luck, he wasn’t there.

Dang, Gordon was hoping to pursue talking to that NPC. In all the stories he’d read, in all the forums, everyone agreed that all the characters avoided the person or were rude and dismissive, except the sentient AI, which seemed to want to kill you or mess with you. Tommy hadn’t lined up with the stories, maybe someone had modified this file? Added a few fan-made quirks or something.

This could after all just be a fan game modeled after the story. Or maybe a game someone made and then crafted a story around to attract attention, but because they hadn’t had the time to finish it, they just made an AI that prevented the character from progressing.

It was a cool game regardless, or he was just a really nostalgic fan boy for a character with his first name. He tried interacting with the scientists, but all he got was “I’m terribly busy”, “Please leave me alone; I have word to do”, “Go to the test chamber, Gordon”, “I don’t have time to talk,” and the most common, “Do not talk to me.”

Gordon got his HEV suit on and headed to the test chamber only to run into a security guard. _The_ security guard? The model looked like all the rest. The security guard stared at him unblinking. Gordon decided fuck it. He didn’t have to be in character. He didn’t have to pretend to be Gordon Freeman. It was after all just a game. This was Gordon the English major’s time.

“Seems like I hit a nerve?” Gordon questioned.

“Huh?” the guard said.

“You didn’t want Tommy to talk to me?” Gordon questioned.

“Who is Tommy?” the guard said, not a hint of expression on his face. Oh, come on. This was the first variance in NPC dialogue, this had to be _the_ security guard. He could fake it too and pretend he didn’t realize this was _the_ guard.

“Never mind; I’m fine. Have a good one,” Gordon said and stepped around the guard to enter the door. It opened, but the guard stuck out an arm to block him. Gordon turned back to him.

“Don’t think you’re supposed to go forward,” the guard said.

“Why not?” Gordon questioned. “It is my job. I have to go to the test chamber.”

The guard stared at him. Dead, shaded eyes boring into his soul through the VR headset. “No. It isn’t.”

“What reason do you have to stop me?” Gordon questioned.

“I need to see your passport,” the guard said.

“No, you don’t,” Gordon said. “You made that up.”

“No, I didn’t,” the guard said. Gordon tapped on his controller for a moment and decided to just force his way past the guard. It wasn’t like he could actually stop Gordon. He pushed against the guard’s arm and it gave, and Gordon just shook his head. “You can’t use force. That’s illegal,” the guard said.

“I don’t care. I’m going forward—” Gordon didn’t even the last word out when the guard interrupted him.

“I’ll use force to stop you.”

“Go ahead, try,” Gordon said facing him. This time the guard was smiling a bit. A barely noticeable smirk.

“Bye.”

Instant kill from a gun.

Game-over screen.

Gordon just laughed to himself. He had a feeling that was going to happen. One more run, maybe this time he just avoided the guard and looked around the map a bit. All until that door and see what was there. Maybe there was even a passport somewhere.

He reloaded and this time decided no, he wasn’t going to the test chamber. If that guard wasn’t going to let him, he was going somewhere else. Gordon went to the locker room this time and he explored Gordon Freeman’s locker curiously, and then glanced over at the NPC in the room. It seemed to be glitched, partially in a locker.

“Hey,” Gordon said, not expecting a response.

“Hello, Gordon!” The NPC said. Finally detaching itself from the locker. It turned to face him smiling.

“How are you?” Gordon questioned.

“Another day, another dollar, here at Black Mesa!” the NPC said.

“Yeah. What’s your name?” Gordon asked. The NPC didn’t look different from the other NPCs, but he seemed a little livelier.

“Hello, Gordon!” the NPC said.

This one wasn’t hostile, but boy was it broken. “That all you can say, bud?”

“Hello, Gordon!” the NPC said.

“Good enough. Nice talking to you,” Gordon said. He left the locker room and went to check out the break room. He found Tommy again, this time at the soda machine, staring mournfully at the soda. He turned to look at Gordon and oddly…recognized him.

“Hello!”

“Hey?” Gordon said. “Getting more soda?”

“I haven’t had any yet today!” Tommy said.

“Huh,” Gordon said. So, no. It wasn’t like the actions were staying from his last playthrough. Tommy just stared at the soda machine again.

“Do you have spare quarters? I lost mine,” Tommy questioned. The other NPCs in the room weren’t even looking at them, and so Gordon checked around. Nope, he didn’t have any quarters. If he could find the crowbar to pick up, he could just break the soda machine. It’s not like it’d matter, the resonance cascade would happen in-game after he got into the test chamber. Or it wouldn’t. Vandalism didn’t do any harm.

“No, but sometimes there’s some under the machine, but I doubt there will be, yanno since—”

Tommy bent down and reached under the machine, finding four quarters. “Found some!”

Huh. Must be a neat little easter-egg or something. Gordon nodded as Tommy put them in, getting two cans of orange soda. He happily opened one and then offered the other to Gordon. Gordon mimed drinking it, almost able to taste the vague taste of oranges if he overthought it.

While he was idly drinking soda with Tommy, the guard must have come over. Gordon glanced to the doorway and found the guard standing there, watching them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh,” the guard said, looking at Tommy curiously.

“Hello again!” Tommy greeted the guard.

 _Huh_ , _indeed. Does Tommy remember me and the guard?_

“You didn’t try—do you have your passport?” the guard questioned.

Gordon laughed, and mimed drinking the soda again, eying the guard with mirth. So, this guard was bugged he hadn’t tried to go to the test chamber this time. If this was really how creepy the AI got, Gordon didn’t think he was going to be that disturbed.

“Nope,” Gordon said.

“You can’t be here,” the guard said.

“I have my passport,” Tommy said, pulling it out of a pocket in his lab coat. It was indeed a passport. What the fuck. The guard looked at the passport, then back to Gordon.

“Bye.”

Instant death shot, again.

Gordon snorted. He stared at that game-over screen and thought about the game. Just a harmless little creepypasta game. He turned everything off and checked in on Joshua, making sure he was still asleep, and headed to bed. It lingered on his mind for a few minutes, before thoughts of his job tomorrow consumed his thoughts.

…

He wouldn’t have free time until next week to properly play the game, so on his lunch break he scrolled the forum surrounding the creepypasta, reading small snippets of other user’s stories, whether true or rumors or blatant falsehoods for internet brownie points.

The forums were busy; they always were. The story had became semi-legendary in the gaming forums still dedicated to all Haunted Gaming aspects and the icebergs in 2020 exploring all the rumors surrounding old games.

_“The Scrapped Half-Life VR”_

**_Pinned:_ ** _Discussion Thread: (150+ replies) created by JkernJernig4n (mod)_

**_Pinned:_ ** _The Game? Thread: (150+ replies) created by SupineSuplexSuperhero (mod)_

_Who hs the cop of the game? (2 replies) created by Ghoulvoy10_

_Does this creepypasta relate to the “Half-Life is real”? (4 replies) created by nrnrnrnrnrnrnrnrnrnrnrn_

_Guard theories? (31 replies) created by SwedishFishInOcean_

_(+expand more)_

Gordon clicked on the game thread. He’d read it plenty of times before, but the top three posts were mini stories from three people who supposedly played the game as well as the original creepypasta.

The original story went as follows:

The unnamed narrator tells us they worked for a company in charge of remaking the classic, only not naming the company for defamation and lawsuit reasons, but they knew we could guess. The idea was to remake a classic game but give it a great AI to really immerse you plus the VR. Like all creepy stories with even a scrap of AI to them, shit went south.

The original post made to a blog had long been deleted, but variations of the tale had spawned. The variations were always about “what happened to the play testers?” The answers according to some tales were the players had aneurysms, or heart attacks or bled hyper realistic blood from their eyes after playing.

The consistent detail after that was always present. Whatever accidents happened, the AI in the game must have gained sentience and the programmers were scared off and shut down the project. The AI part of the tale was glossed over, the original unnamed narrator claiming they weren’t part of the programming staff, just a person recruiting play testers and working on gathering early opinions for market research.

The most popular version of the tale ended there, but the second most popular one didn’t, and it was the one that had spun the download link originally to the game. Unlike the original story, the gender of the unnamed narrator was specified in the second telling.

One day, the market researcher said she wanted a chance to glimpse the killer game, but were stopped, a programmer looking on the brink of death from exhaustion shaking her, and pulling her away from the headset, claiming the AI knew too much, “they had gone too far.” Which was all very cliché and dramatic, and therefore, likely false, Gordon thought.

And from there, she said, the programmer grabbed the last copy of the game and promised he’d take it home and destroy it. He just needed to figure out where it all went wrong. But he was never seen again.

Which was complete and utter bullshit. People with more time than Gordon had gone ahead and done a full scour of the internet looking for a mysterious death, but no one found anything like that. Even Gordon searched, and the best he could find was a “mysterious” fishing accident happened to a programmer nowhere near when the game was supposedly in creation.

It wasn’t mysterious, the exact autopsy report was he drank too much and drowned. And itw as also way before the game was made, like by 5 years.

It was such a half-baked eerie conclusion, but Gordon loved it.

Weeks after the forums were created to archive the story since the original disappeared from the blog it was on, someone with a now deleted account posted the link to the game. All it said was, “I have a link to the actual game. Play it if you dare.”

That file link no longer worked, and the best way to get the game these days was to ask someone who had a copy, but most everyone seemed to unanimously agree to delete the game after playing it, so it was pretty damn hard to do. Gordon had got lucky and was on at the right time in the right thread. He also hadn’t written a scathing rude reply like everyone else had to the girl’s account of her playthrough.

Everyone who wrote about the game agreed on a few things:

First, the AI were odd. There were hostile at best, avoiding the player at worst. The best way to describe it were fast food workers who really hated customers. Which honestly seemed plenty of reason why the game would be scrapped from that alone.

Second, is you can’t beat the game. It’s impossible. Alyxismywaifu34 claimed he used some tools to just cheat his way to the end, and the times he was able to get the game to start, he was instant killed despite his invulnerability, and after that the file refused to start up, and at one pointed deleted itself from his computer.

Third, _the_ security guard doesn’t want you to progress and will stop you. He is definitely the sentient AI they were talking about.

The most popular account who detailed his playthrough of the game was Spoopyas5che3ks.

His account:

_“The game loaded up normally when I reloaded it after the intitial crash. FYI, I ran it on a VM with no connection to the internet. I boot back in and load my game and the security guard who had disappeared after the res. cascade is back. The game looks normal, there’s nothing out of the normal. It’s almost just like a normal game of half-life but in VR._

_It gets weird. I try to be funny with the guard, keep asking him dumb questions._

_He never answers and after a while he asks me one. “Why are you recording this?”_

_I was recording it. He shouldn’t have been able to know. I figured it was a coincidental game line. Maybe Gordon Freeman carries around a recorder._

_I asked him what he meant. See the attached video clip. You’ll have to take my word on everything after I ask what he means, because the video file corrupted the moment he said, “Don’t. Record.”_

_I killed the session hard and stopped the VM. I tried looking through the game files, but eventually my nerves got the best of me and I sent the VM to the graveyard for good._

_There’s some unusual encrypted text and a reoccurring string of numbers attached to them “536436.” If anyone’s good at figuring out codes, I leave you to decipher this. See the screenshots below. I’m going to scrub through my Linux after this; the game got into my head._

_I’d advise if you download (mediafire link) use a VM, a burner computer, turn off wifi and treat it like malware.”_

The videos and screenshots matched up with his own experiences, but it could all be faked or exaggerated. It’s hard to say. Since Cheeks had the most evidence, he was the most popular of the stories.

Lunch break was over, and Gordon found himself tempted. He could squeeze in some time today to play the game just a bit more. Just to see what it had. It wouldn’t hurt. Another hour just sacrifice an hour of sleep, and poke around a little bit more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things bad computer programs can do: remote-control mouse, prevent shutdown (but dont panic Word can do that too and other programs to prevent you from losing work), kill other programs and run in the background (but so do like 99% of Microsoft's programs). 
> 
> Things they can't do: possess their very own Benrey.
> 
> God, I love that modern day horror of Simulacra and the like...where your phone, your computer--just..easily controlled. And the modern day horror of reddit being like "have you tried Linux loser."

Once Joshua’s asleep, this time with a little fuss, because Gordon forgot he washed Joshua’s stuffed crocodile, and then he had to find the crocodile’s cowboy hat, and then Joshua whined that the beard he drew on crocodile had washed off, and how would people know he’s been through a lot prompted Gordon to go get a fabric marker and draw on the beard again. Once that was out of the way, Joshua conked out, happily curling up with the crocodile and Gordon went to his office room, sighing as he cast a look at the computer.

It was beckoning him nearly. Come on Gordon, come check out the game.

He really shouldn’t. He needed that sleep.

Gordon sat down at his office chair. Just a little peak.

_I’ll see if there’s any files on my computer like Cheeks noticed._

Gordon glanced at the screenshots on Cheeks’ story and noticed the file locations were in AppData. Gordon googled how to get to AppData.

Gordon feeling like a computer illiterate typed in %AppData% and was greeted with Local, LocalLow and Roaming. He clicked Roaming, glancing at Cheeks’ screenshot he found the folder named HalfLifeVR and clicked into it and found unfamiliar file names and extensions and a text file named “Stop.txt.”

Gordon opened it.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

Gordon was a little amused and excited. He hadn’t thought he’d find something, but the little touch of fear to his feelings pushed him to keep looking. He moved the file to the recycling bin and went back to check the folder again. Before he could do much, the file explorer closed abruptly.

Weird? Gordon chewed on the inside of his mouth. Was it a computer malfunction or the game? Surely it wasn’t running. Gordon booted up task manager and scanned over the list of processes running. Sure enough, Halflifevr.exe was running.

Gordon ended the program. For a moment he feared it wouldn’t end, but no, it disappeared from the current tasks and he felt satisfied. He went back to the Roaming folder and HalfLifeVR folder.

A new text file named, “Listen.txt.”

“No passport, no entry.”

He dragged it to the recycling bin and was once again kicked to desktop. Gordon went back to task manager and there it was again. Halflifevr.exe. Still running. It was a little too virus like for his comfort. He stopped the .exe again and was greeted with a pop-up box.

_“Do you want to allow the following program from an unknown publisher to make changes to this computer?”_

_Program Name: halflifevr.exe_

_Publisher: **Unknown**_

_File Origin: Hard drive on this computer._

That was a hard no. Gordon clicked the no box. He stared at the desktop shortcut for Halflifevr.exe, half expecting it to go crazy or respond negatively to his ‘no.’ It did nothing, as it was just an icon on a computer. Gordon sighed. He really shouldn’t.

But if the AI was sentient could Gordon ask it to not mess with his computer?

Then again, sentient AI seemed to point to most likely malicious AI. Gordon booted up the game, put on the VR headset and prepared for the worst. This time he decided to put on the HEV suit and go to the test chamber.

Predictably, it wasn’t that easy. The guard was in the way.

“Need your passport to enter here,” the guard said.

That’s fine, Gordon could just address his real problem. He was somewhat scared of his computer files being messed with. “Look, man. That’s cool and all, but don’t mess with my computer files,” Gordon said.

“Huh?” The guard questioned. His eyes were dead and emotionless, and he played just as dumb as before. His hand was already reaching for that gun. Gordon sighed; he really didn’t want to do this. Gordon Freeman had a locker, maybe he could just take the guard there.

“Okay, new idea. How about I take you to the locker, my locker, and show you what’s in it? That’ll prove my credentials, right?” Gordon questioned.

The guard considered this and shrugged. He gestured for Gordon to lead. Gordon did so, passing the scientist NPC lingering halfway in a locker again.

“Hello, Gordon!” the scientist NPC said.

“Hello,” Gordon said unenthusiastically. The scientist continued erratically glitching in and out the locker, but the guard didn’t seem concerned by that. Instead he stared at Gordon with those beady, dead, dark eyes.

Gordon opened the locker and gestured inside of it without looking. He knew the game contents would be enough. It’d clear him. It’d be Gordon Freeman’s belongings. The guard stepped into the locker and looked around and Gordon was tempted to attempt to close the door on him until, “Your son looks a bit shit.”

Gordon Freeman had a son? Gordon looked in the locker and balked. It was a photo he uploaded to his computer of Joshua from his sixth birthday last year. The degree in the locker was his—even the smudged corner where he accidentally got something on it before scanning it into his computer and his ID and his scanned document of—

“Your passport is almost expired,” the guard said, grabbing what was in game was a corporeal passport, but what should only be a pdf…on his computer. Gordon stared at the guard, dumbfounded. The guard pocketed Gordon’s passport. “It’ll work…for now.”

“…what?” Gordon said weakly. He was still staring in disbelief at the photo of his son…in this game…

_What the fuck was happening?_

“Hello, Gordon!” The NPC had managed to dislodge itself from the locker and made its way over. “Another day another—you have a very beautiful baby boy!”

That was the last straw. Gordon was freaking out. Fuck this. He was getting out of here and deleting this game and never downloading another strange .exe ever again. The guard must have somehow guessed from his hand motions what he was about to do, that Gordon was about to rip the damn headset off.

“Why are you trying to leave?” the guard sounded genuinely confused and concerned and _no._

“Nope. No. I’m not dealing with this,” Gordon pulled off his headset and closed the game, breathing heavily. He checked the folder where he knew he stored his important files and found one missing.

His passport file. Gordon quickly searched for it in the search menu, but no luck. No, no. That couldn’t have been real. That’s impossible. No. He closed out of file explorer and his eyes landed on the stray icon in the middle of his desktop. A text file named: “Gordon.txt.”

With a shaking hand, he clicked it.

“You forgot your passport.”

Gordon shut down his computer and took a very long time to go to sleep.

…

It was really starting to bleed into his private life. Gordon added another tab to the 15 current tabs he had open, mostly trying to fact check the details of this obit on the local high school principal and glanced around himself. Just a little diversion. He opened the forum for the game and quickly logged in and made a post.

Was he really doing this? Was he that scared? It could just be an overreaction? Maybe he dreamed the whole thing. He chewed idly on a pen that had wandered into his nervous hand at one point and now into his mouth.

_“Does the game take files from your computer?” (Tag: The game?) by ShakespeareWasntThatgreat._

_Synopsis: The game fetched files of the pdf of my passport when the guard kept asking for my passport. How?_

He hesitated for a moment but went ahead. Just a little dalliance, then back to work.

_Ghoulvoy: y didn’t u say u had game when I askrd_

_Markus Parks: think spoopyas5che3ks mentioned that_

_Reply from spoopyas5che3ks: it’s why I said use a VM. Idiots will be idiots._

_Reply from MarkusParkus: anyway to stop it from doing that?_

_Reply from spoopyas5ch3ks: use a VM_

_Hotgirlsikenot: I had something similar but with like a photo of my golden retriever. Never got the photo back_ _☹_

_Reply from Ghoulvoy10: u rlly a girl_

_Reply from Hotgirlsikenot: no_

_Reply from Ghoulvoy10: kys cunt_

_Reply from Hotgirlsikenot: ok_

_JkernJernig4n (mod): We advise in the security pinned post in the FAQ column to treat the game like it’s a potential virus and use a VM or burner computer. My advice would be to delete the game and run a virus scan. If you need a free tool for that, download Malwarebytes. Worst case scenario might be a factory reset._

_Reply from Broimgaaaaaay: or just try to finish the game? R u scared?_

_Reply from JkernJernig4n (mod): didn’t Supine ban you last week?_

_Reply from SupineSuplexSuperhero (mod): I did_

_Reply from Broimgaaaaaay: i have hax_

_Reply from JkernJernig4n (mod); im banning you again_

The forums didn’t help, but Gordon did get two private messages. One from Bro and the Other from Cheeks.

_Cheeks: You read my story awhile back; I remember your comment debating Krewnet about it being ghosts. So, why didn’t you use security like I advised?_

Gordon was too embarrassed and ashamed to answer that. He had hesitated in downloading and running the sketchy internet .exe, but he thought “it won’t happen to me.” Gordon moved onto the other message.

_Bro: hi_

_Shakespeare: hey?_

_Bro: whod u get file download from_

_Shakespeare: 3452catghostgirl_

_Bro: did u know only 1 person can have fule at a time_

_Shakespeare: lol not how files work_

_Bro: how this one works. I had it first._

_Shakespeare: x to doubt_

_Bro: see u around_ _😉_

_Shakespeare: ok?_

Whatever. Weird interactions were too commonplace. Always some kids trolling. He wasn’t that disturbed. Regardless, the forums weren’t of use, because everyone else seemed to be a computer science major or IT support person with high privacy concerns, and not Gordon who bought his first PC last year and was just glad he knew how to plug all the parts in correctly.

He closed the tab and leaned back in his chair, glancing around him at the busy newsroom. Everyone was glued on their own work so his own little mini-break hadn’t been noticed. He moved back to the tab to continue searching facts, but his mind wandered. Nothing too troublesome today. Maybe, just maybe. Gordon chewed on the pencil, glancing at the clock in the corner of the desktop.

He could open the game again today. Just scratch the itch. It was nothing. He’d just see what happened, request his passport back, and then delete it and it’d be over.

But Joshua liked having help on his homework, and he had dinner to cook and really no time?

Gordon could just go to sleep later…

…

When he put Joshua to bed, he gave his office door 30 minutes of indecisive glances from where he sat on his phone a few feet away in the living room. After a long moment of staring at the door, he stood up. He checked Joshua’s room upstairs, made sure the little guy was still asleep, before heading back to his office.

Gordon pushed the door open, almost expecting a comically large monster on the other side.

It was just his computer and chair, and his messy desk. He sat down at the computer and at the VR headset discarded on the ground and then booted up his computer, warily scanning all parts of it and even under the desk like he really expected a monster.

_Don’t be childish, Gordon, it’s just a game._

Gordon logged onto his computer and expected his desktop to be a mess—like all glitched out or wild or something. It was a mess, but that was just how it normally looked. In the middle of the desktop was that same text file. Gordon clicked it.

Its message had changed.

 _"_ Welcome back."

Gordon deleted the file and sighed. He was doing this. He really was doing this. He should delete it. Run some virus software. Do what people better at computer programs knew to do. Instead, he picked up the VR headset off the ground and clicked the desktop icon.

“Rock and roll, buckaroo,” Gordon muttered to himself and put on the headset.

He was not back at the beginning, like he’d been all those times before, but in the locker room. It was empty now, the glitching NPC gone and the guard wandered off somewhere. Gordon checked the contents of the locker and found his things again, minus the passport.

Great. Not a dream then. Gordon looked at the photo of his son and closed the locker. He took a deep breath, his fingers shaking a little against the buttons of the controller before he shook his arms and continued forward in the game.

He went to the break room and saw Tommy again, this time drinking a can of soda which bizarrely, had a copy-pasted logo of Sunkist on what should be an untextured game soda can. Maybe they’d had a brand deal with Sunkist of all brands. Tommy waved at him and Gordon waved back.

“Hey, Tommy!” Gordon greeted.

“Hi, Gordon! Shouldn’t you go get dressed for the testing chamber?”

His dialogue seemed odd. It was missing his earlier voice inflections, but then Tommy took a drink of the soda, blinked and greeted Gordon again. “Hey Mr. Freeman—Mr. Endley!”

_No. Fucking. Way. My real damn last name. They do have the files now so…_

“Hey, Tommy?” Gordon greeted.

“5̶̢̧̨̯̮̫̘̞̦͎̻̳̟̥̉̽̍̌͋͝3̷̛̠͐̽̃̄͋́̆͆̈́̏̽̑̚͝6̸̡̻͔͖̬͙͇̼͕̝͓̬̂͜ͅͅ4̵̧͍̙͎̤̥̯͎̭̌̿3̶̧̢̼̪̪̯̅̀̓̒ͅͅ6̷̢͖͍̯̲̪̂̏̈́ is looking for you!”

“What now?”

“5̶̢̧̨̯̮̫̘̞̦͎̻̳̟̥̉̽̍̌͋͝3̷̛̠͐̽̃̄͋́̆͆̈́̏̽̑̚͝6̸̡̻͔͖̬͙͇̼͕̝͓̬̂͜ͅͅ4̵̧͍̙͎̤̥̯͎̭̌̿3̶̧̢̼̪̪̯̅̀̓̒ͅͅ6̷̢͖͍̯̲̪̂̏̈́?”

“Nevermind,” Gordon figured that’s fine. He didn’t need his ears anyway. They could metaphorically bleed in the headset. He bade Tommy goodbye and went to get suited up he supposed. Looks like that was the only thing that was happening. Gordon equipped the HEV suit and saw someone staring at him.

Scientist NPC, currently semi-glitching through the floor. Poor dude. Can’t not glitch.

“Hey,” Gordon greeted warily.

“Hello, Gordon!”

“Same as usual,” Gordon muttered to himself. He went to walk around the NPC but it’s image stuttered and it suddenly appeared in front of him. Gordon took a step back.

“Another day an--5̶̢̧̨̯̮̫̘̞̦͎̻̳̟̥̉̽̍̌͋͝3̷̛̠͐̽̃̄͋́̆͆̈́̏̽̑̚͝6̸̡̻͔͖̬͙͇̼͕̝͓̬̂͜ͅͅ4̵̧͍̙͎̤̥̯͎̭̌̿3̶̧̢̼̪̪̯̅̀̓̒ͅͅ6̷̢͖͍̯̲̪̂̏̈́ is happy to see that you’re back!”

“Gah, I don’t like that. Okay, cool. I assume you mean the guard. I’ll go talk to him. Just…don’t do…that,” Gordon said, hesitantly giving the NPC a wide berth as he walked around him. “Please for the love of god, don’t…” The flickering NPC stabilized.

“Hello, Gordon!”

“Hello whatever your name is,” Gordon glanced at the name tag on the NPC. Could he read it? He could. “Hello, Dr…..Coomer?”

“Hello, Gordon!” Back to glitching into a random wall again. That’s fine. Gordon was fine. Just a glitchy NPC. Nothing strange. That and strange guard. Yup. Nope. Why was he doing this? Gordon reached a hand up and dragged through his. Guh. No. This was too weird.

Gordon dragged his hand down his face. Then paused. Face?

_I swear I…_

This time he felt the VR visor. But for a second…he hadn’t felt it all. Just his glasses and his brows and nose and…

 _I’m losing my mind_.

Gordon shook it off and headed to the door he’d been unable to pass last time. The guard was there. “You got your passport?” he asked.

Gordon groaned. “You took it from me.”

“No, I didn’t,” the guard said. Same cold dead eyes. Staring at nothingness. Not even Gordon.

“Look, clearly you did.”

“Dunno. Clumsy stupid boy like you should check your pockets. Probably forgot it in there,” the guard said. Again, he looked past Gordon like Gordon didn’t even exist. It was infuriating and Gordon was about to argue the pockets now were the pockets of the HEV suit, but he checked his inventory anyway.

Sure enough, “Passport – Gordon Endley.” Too weird. Gordon equipped it and showed it to the guard. The guard looked at it. “Hm.”

“Is this fine or what—because it seems like you wanted to talk to me?” Gordon said. “Or at least that’s what everyone creepily says,” Gordon questioned. He looked at the character model of the damn guard and it just stared back. Blank. The door still hadn’t opened behind him.

“You shouldn’t shutdown your computer,” the guard said as Gordon had started considering taking the headset off and giving up. Gordon glanced at him.

“What?”

The guard didn’t elaborate, just wandered to the door and opened it, leaving his back open to Gordon. It was tempting to try and hit the guard, but Gordon kept the urge in. Not like there’d be any punishment. It’s just a virtual NPC that was goddamn frustrating. He should shutdown his computer if the NPC wanted it up in the first place. Weird creepy .exe.

Gordon followed the guard through the door and found himself somewhat soothed by the familiar half-life imagery. He turned to confront the guard, but he’d vanished, so Gordon just sighed and walked on where. He just walked down the corridors, took the elevator down and through one more door.

The halls were empty. There should be NPCs here. What the fuck was going on?

The guard was strangely leaving him alone now. Why now?

It didn’t bode well.

Gordon was easily able to enter the testing chamber. Not once did he see the guard. Why?

Why was it this easy? What the fuck was going on? It made him uneasy in the nearly silent test chamber as he started the thing that leads to the resonance cascade. He looked around the room, expecting to see the guard and he did. In the viewing platform window.

Staring dispassionately down at Gordon, expectant. Waiting.

What, did he expect Gordon was actually going to die in the resonance cascade?

Gordon couldn’t—Gordon ignored the guard and pushed the test box-mcthingy into the beam. It was the biggest mistake he’d ever made. Normally, this would all be images, maybe a warning to epileptic people, but it wasn’t this time. Gordon could hear the volts crackling outward, but he could also _feel_ the electricity singing the hair on his arms.

Gordon glanced up at the control room and saw the guard was laughing. He knew. He knew that—a stray volt hit Gordon in the arm and he felt a burning sensation. He pat at his arm, but the HEV suit was in the way—no, it should be the controller. No—too weird. Too weird.

Bail out, bail out. Gordon fumbled for a moment, unable to find his headset. Why couldn’t he find the headset? Any moment the cascade that flooded the room would happen and Gordon would—Gordon didn’t know what would happen. He found the straps to his headset and just as he pushed up the flash of green covered the screen in front of his eyes.

It felt like he’d been electrocuted, and Gordon fell back as the VR headset fell to the ground. He landed on his arms and ass, breathing heavily and fearfully as the controllers slipped from his hands. He couldn’t move his fingers or his arms, the muscles twitching too erratically. He just half-lay there breathing heavily until he could move his fingers enough to run his fingers through the tacky shag carpet of his office.

Gordon sat up and fumbled for his glasses sitting on his desk and put them on, his eyes going to his computer, then to his arm where he so clearly remembered the burn.

It was red. His skin was goddamn red there.

_No fucking way._

Gordon wheezed out a grim laugh and just lay on the floor of his office for a moment. That’s it. He was done. No more of this game. No more.

Gordon was done.

A windows sound drew his eyes to the computer again. Gordon sat up and moved to his office chair, sitting down.

_“Do you want to allow the following program from an unknown publisher to make changes to this computer?”_

_Program Name: halflifevr.exe_

_Publisher: **Unk**_ **5̶̢̧̨̯̮̫̘̞̦͎̻̳̟̥̉̽̍̌͋͝3̷̛̠͐̽̃̄͋́̆͆̈́̏̽̑̚͝6̸̡̻͔͖̬͙͇̼͕̝͓̬̂͜ͅͅ4̵̧͍̙͎̤̥̯͎̭̌̿3̶̧̢̼̪̪̯̅̀̓̒ͅͅ6̷̢͖͍̯̲̪̂̏̈́**

_File Origin: Hard drive on this computer._

Gordon clicked no, and just leaned back in his chair. A new text file. Yay. He wanted one of those. “DontShutdown.txt.” Gordon opened it.

“Don’t shutdown the computer. Or I’ll be bad.”

Gordon closed it.

Gordon weighed his options.

  * Call in sick. Pack Joshua up. Move to a remote island.
  * Delete the program. Throw his computer into the garbage. Throw his phone out too for good measure.
  * Sit here forever, because he was traumatized and could never trust his computer again.



Right. Right. No, so that wasn’t fiction, the whole people dying, which couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t be. Games couldn’t hurt you. Gordon just slapped his own arm or something. He gently ran his fingers over the spot on his arm and it was tender, but not like a burning pain. It could just be a bruise.

 _It’s all in your head, Gordon_.

Yeah! It wasn’t—the headset hadn’t felt like it disappeared at times. It was just Gordon panicking. Anxiety was a bitch. Gordon decided to attempt to sleep. It was okay. Just a game. Couldn’t hurt him. He’d delete it tomorrow. Gordon clicked shut down and tore his eyes away from his computer, turned off the lights to his office and closed the door, leaving behind a bad memory for another day.

In the dark room the computer screen hadn’t flicked off.

_Closing 1 app and shutting down_

_To go back and save your work, click Cancel and finish what you need to._

**Halflifevr.exe**

**_This app is preventing shutdown_.**

[Shut down anyway] [Cancel]

After a moment in the still quiet of the room, where distantly Gordon could be heard brushing his teeth in the bathroom, the water running through the pipes of the wall, the mouse on the computer slowly began to move.

Closer. Closer.

It clicked cancel.

The desktop resumed. In a small box halflifevr.exe still playing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> America looks grim, have a distraction. A distraction that reminds you viruses are total agents of mass destruction, avoid viruses. Viruses don't contain stinky gamers like Benrey. That's just virus propaganda. Instead they're just Raybanz.

…

Gordon dropped Joshua off at school, and made it to his chair at work without much hassle, pulling out a flash drive and plugging it into his work computer to get ready for the eventual weekend assignments. Always some writer running late on a deadline, usually from “The Dig” or what he nicknamed the always-late-never-on-time-investigative-journalists. He hadn’t had much time that morning to even think about the cursed .exe game nor grab his wallet apparently. He had like four dollars in quarters in his coin-box on his desk and a couple of crumpled dollar bills haphazardly shoved into his jacket.

Pray the police don’t profile him on his way home since he didn’t have his license on him. Usually the bumper sticker boasting about Joshua winning a spelling bee chased them off. Trust police to think he was a suburban white mom with that bumper sticker.

Gordon sighed and got to work, his mind sufficiently occupied until his lunch break drew nearer and his thoughts started to roam. The game was like a bad-case of binge watching a train-wreck of a show. It’s not going to end well and he’s going to be disappointed that the writers did what they always do, but he just wants to know what happens. It’s like that or an itch just out of reach. If he just stretched a little further and tested it—maybe he’d finally feel satisfied.

Since he didn’t have his wallet to go spend too much on decent coffee and a sandwich, he settled for off-brand granola bar in the vending machine and a can of the only soda remaining in the machine—diet something or other that vaguely tasted like soda. He was pretty sure the machines had not once been refilled throughout his entire time working here.

Gordon nibbled mindlessly on the granola bar and decided he had to do some research. But where to start?

What can an .exe virus do to a computer?

Results: What are ports? What is listening in on a port? How’s he supposed to get to that part of his computer? And he has to know what processes—all right. That’s enough of that. Why does everyone on that tech board answer simple questions with the most complex answer?

What can AI do to a computer?

Results: Theoretical, really? Huh, that’s an interesting project. Huh, I mean, technically yeah Cortana, Siri, Alexa are AI…alright. No, that did very little to help him, but interesting.

Are ghosts real?

Results: Inconclusive. Why is a Wikihow article a top result?

Is anyone sure that it is an AI and not in fact a ghost?

Results: Krewnet could suck his balls one at a time, ghosts still seemed a damn plausible theory. Even if some tech person was going on in length about this was just like Houdini, and everyone assumes something they don’t understand is supernatural.

“What’re you searching up there?” Gordon nearly knocked over the diet soda. He glanced up to see one of the tech reporters, Darnold Volt, dragging an empty chair over to peer at Gordon’s screen. “Ha, bored or something?”

“Computer issues at home,” Gordon said. “You also on lunch break?”

“Yeah. Didn’t feel like leaving the place either,” Darnold said, and rested his arms on the desk. “How’s life? How’s the kid?”

“Good, good—just…stressed…about this. You?” Gordon said, gesturing to his computer

“Ghosts in your computer?” Darnold questioned. “It’s been good. Ariana’s signed up for the musical, so now I get an hour of free-time after work.”

Gordon snorted, even if part of him did still vehemently believe that it was a possibility. “She did good at that talent show last year, not surprised she took up theater.” Gordon commented. “And no, probably not ghosts Just a weird .exe. I think it may be a pretty terrible virus.” At that, Darnold brightened up. Gordon prepared for the worst.

See. Most reporters that specialize in an area like or have a decent interest in what they’re reporting. Not all—sometimes there’s some reporters who know very little and care very little, but Darnold had two loves—backyard chemistry and computers.

“Oh, Gordon—didn’t you listen to those seminars on safe computer usage?” Darnold teased, and Gordon rolled his eyes. “Lay it out for me though—just what’s gone wrong with your computer? What’s the .exe?” Darnold questioned.

Gordon tried his best to explain it. “It was supposed to be a game. Half-life but VR and it has too sentient AI.”

“What—did it turn out to be a porn-ad spammer?” Darnold questioned.

“No, it was a game,” Gordon said, and Darnold looked intrigued.

“Really? And…?” he pressed.

Gordon leaned back in his chair, idly gesturing to the computer. “Maybe I’m freaking out over nothing. Just…the AI in the game…one in particular has pretty creepy voice lines and leaves messages and fetches files from my computer like of my passport.”

Darnold took it all in, and he considered it. “Definitely sounds virus like, the game might be a cover-up for the virus. A way to get more information out of you, but by the sound of it the content changes when you interact with it?” Darnold questioned.

“Yeah,” Gordon said.

“Then it might be the virus reports back to a control—someone’s remote-accessing your computer adding things to the game or the virus as you play into it more,” Darnold theorized, and Gordon felt his blood run cold. That sounded awful.

“Oh,” Gordon said meekly. “Uh…what do I do if that’s the case?”

Darnold gave him a sympathetic smile. “Might end up having to trash your computer worst scenario,” Gordon felt his heart fall. Oh god, all the money wasted. “Or do nothing at best, but I’d just try going ahead and deleting the game. Start simple, go bigger if it gets worse.”

“I’m now scared of the game for different reasons,” Gordon admitted. Reasons like social identity theft or bank account information being stolen. “Is it bad I keep all my important documents scanned onto my computer?”

“In most cases, no. In this case, yes,” Darnold said. “Sorry, Gordon. If you want, I can take a crack shot at beating the virus for you,” Darnold suggested, but Gordon waved him off, feeling the same shame creep up from Cheek’s message. Of course, it seemed like it’s supposed to be obvious that people really can do that much to his computer.

“No, I think I got it handled,” Gordon said. “Though I’ll text you if I need back-up.”

“You should,” Darnold said. “See you around, Gordon. I’ve got to go get my pitches in.” Darnold put the chair back and returned to his desk and Gordon sighed, his eyes going to his ridiculous google searches. He still had fifteen minutes left. Time to kill them looking at the forums.

_“The Scrapped Half-Life VR”_

**_Pinned:_ ** Rule Update **:** _(12 replies) created by JkernJernig4n (mod)_

**_Pinned:_ ** _Discussion Thread: (150+ replies) created by JkernJernig4n (mod)_

**_Pinned:_ ** _The Game? Thread: (150+ replies) created by SupineSuplexSuperhero (mod)_

_Theory: What if the security guard is satan?! (0 replies) created by 14reasonswhy06_

_This forum is going to trash… (4 replies) created by Krewnet_

_Where on the iceberg is this creepypasta? (2 replies) created by DankWeedHorses_

_(+expand more)_

Gordon checked the new rule.

**_Pinned:_ ** Rule Update  _created by JkernJernig4n (mod)_

_Synopsis: It came to our attention a user by the name of Broimgaaaaaay has repeatedly found a way back into the forum after being banned. If you see him on any post please contact Supine or I (not Hogan he’s on vacation) by @ing us or DMing us and tell us so we can ban him again. He has been banned due to his multiple attempts to harass users of the forum and the moderators. Thank-you for your assistance._

_Broimgaaaaaay: lol that me_

_Reply from JkernJernig4n (mod): Do you have a life?_

_Reply from Broimgaaaaaay: No :D_

_Reply from Ghoulvoy10: @JkernJernig4n hes here_

_Reply from JkernJernig4n (mod): thank you im aware :-/_

_Krewnet: this is what I meant_

_Reply from JkernJernig4n (mod): trying to fix it_

_Ghoulvoy10: can someone send me game?_

_Reply from JkernJernig4n (mod): please create your own thread for this_

_Reply from Ghoulvoy10: i did no one sent me game_

_Reply from JkernJernig4n (mod): be patient_

_Reply from Ghoulvoy10: no_

Gordon snorted. Unimportant and moved on. What was his forum nemesis Krewnet complaining about?

_This forum is going to trash… created by Krewnet_

_Synopsis: Everyone here used to have at least half a brain now we get nine-year-old kids in everyday and people who can’t even use basic common sense. I miss the old days._

_Broimgaaaaaay: ur just sad cuz no one ever gave u the game_

_Reply from Krewnet: fuck off_

_Reply from Broimgaaaaaay: can’t :(_

_Ghoulvoy10: im 10_

Fair enough. Gordon’s fifteen minutes were up, and he was sufficiently sure Krewnet was right marginally. The forum was trash when it came to actually what to do about the game, but it was sure helpful if you wanted to watch the mod try to ban a single person who refused to go away.

…

Before the weekend fully began, Gordon found his mind boggled with weekend assignments, a meeting on limiting the use of commas in articles and a small discussion among other editors about “email and phone politeness when contacting writers—for the love of god Phil, do not contact writers at 3 a.m.”

But with his mind swimming with work related drama, Gordon completely for the moment, forgot about the oddity on his computer. Instead, as he woke up Saturday morning and prepared pancakes for himself and his son, his mind has slipped into “work Gordon.”

Or, Gordon threw out the inner child in his mind begging him to ignore all his responsibilities and tried to plan how he was going to tackle his day-to-day.

Saturday morning breakfasts were also usually when Gordon had to do the parenting he didn’t like to do, which was for some reason Joshua always got into trouble on Friday. Gordon, like most parents, would have trouble imagining why, but he had good suspicions—it was not Joshua’s fault but his teacher’s.

Joshua was not shy around his friends and trusted adults. He was however, completely and utterly unable to get a sentence out around some teachers. It wasn’t an issue in Kindergarten and 1st grade—his teachers were loving and patient.

But this year. Gordon had spent parent-teacher conferences arguing on behalf of his son. He’d had similar anxiety throughout his middle-school and high-school life and his mom had done what she could for him, so he was doing what he could for Joshua.

So, it wasn’t surprising when Joshua was quiet at breakfast, prodding his pancakes like he was about to dissect a rather ugly creature.

“Mrs. Omell got you down?” Gordon questioned.

Joshua nodded. “Yeah, like with what I said yesterday. She always picks me for the hardest paragraphs for out-loud reading.” Gordon poured his son an orange-juice. Joshua animatedly gestured with his hands. “And then Carson started snickering when I started stuttering and so I got…mad. And I yelled at him to shut up.”

Gordon nodded. “I know it’s rough, but the year’s almost up. We can get through Mrs. Omell.”

“But Carson will probably still be there next year,” Joshua muttered.

“Not always. He could move,” Gordon suggested, and his son just gave him an exasperated look.

“I hope aliens get him,” Joshua muttered.

“Josh,” Gordon said sternly.

“What? Aliens never listen,” Joshua argued. “Besides, Carson’s too mean for aliens to like too.” Joshua finally stopped dissecting his poor mush of pancakes and took a bite.

“Did she assign at home reading again?” Gordon questioned, and Joshua nodded. “We’ll do it after breakfast, that way you have the day free.”

“But you know I can read!” Joshua muttered unhappily.

“I know, sometimes we have to follow stupid rules,” Gordon said, scarfing down his own pancakes. His son shook his head.

“No one else in the class has to follow them. Carson’s never called on,” Joshua argued. Gordon sighed. He’d wait three more years for that talk. Instead he changed the subject.

“Tell you what. Since I know you’re going to great, we can go rent that uh…lego movie? Is that the—”

Joshua cut him off, grinning. “Yeah, Lego Movie! Can we do it right after I finish the reading? Please, dad! I’ll even clean up the legos off the ground in my room.” Gordon winced, knowing full well cleaning for Joshua meant shoving the legos under his bed or in stray corners, for Gordon to somehow step on when he tried to freshen up Joshua’s room or clean his bedding.

“Tonight. I’ll even order pizza,” Gordon promised and Joshua bounced in his seat. “Finish your breakfast though.”

“I don’t want too. Pancakes are all mushy.”

“You did that to them,” Gordon pointed out.

“Yeah, well, they’re stupid,” Joshua said. “Can we please go get the movie earlier?”

“I also have homework to do,” Gordon said. “You can continue building that castle thing you were building last night.”

“It’s a fort!”

“The fort then.”

“…but I don’t want to do that,” Joshua whined.

Gordon sighed. The joys of children. “It’ll only be a few hours.”

Joshua half-heartedly finished most of his pancakes, mushing the ones in the corner of his plate further with the prongs of his fork. “That’s forever.”

“You’ll live,” Gordon said.

“I’m going to die of boredom between then and now.”

“Before you die, let’s get that reading assignment knocked out,” Gordon assured him, and Joshua groaned, dragging his feet to go to his backpack set by the door.

Gordon knew his son was a good son, maybe a tad spoiled at times, maybe growing up to be blood-thirsty about getting rid of some classmates via aliens—which Joshua was sure existed—and sometimes prone to being as dramatic as his father was, but a good soon nonetheless.

Gordon knocked Joshua’s homework out of the way and sent Joshua off to his room, where despite his “boredom that’ll kill” him, he managed to immediately resume building the fort, casting a sour look at Gordon as he went to his office.

Time for Gordon’s homework.

They needed this released by Monday, so he had to get the story up on some City Commission scandal that was more the fault of the City Engineer and how this bad allocation of money lead to some of the road issues that caused the 5 car pileup on the main road to the high school last year.

Gordon sat down at his computer and shook the mouse awake, noticing nothing odd as he plugged in his flash drive and prepared for the mundane but pleasant work of copy-editing.

As with all copy-editing sessions, there’s a good hour of fact checking and the eventual “is this source wrongly spelled, made up, or did the reporter misread what their notes said?”

Time to stretch his legs and call the reporter. “Hey, Jan, Gordon from copy desk here. About the article on City Comm. I’m not finding a George Peterson. Can you check your notes?” Gordon left the office, leaving the document open as he walked out, eyes turning to his son’s room where the boy was clashing lego horses together. “Uh-huh. I’ll check. Petrison you said?” Gordon checked google and found the LinkedIn. “Gregory Petrison?” Looks correct. “Yeah, no, I understand. I’ve pulled a late-nighter too. Thanks, Jan, have a good weekend.” Gordon turned away from his son who cast a look at him before continuing playing.

He returned to his office to make the correction and found his computer asleep. Gordon woke up his computer with a shake of his mouse and stared at the blank document in front of him where he expected words.

What?

Gordon checked he hadn’t opened a new document. He hadn’t. Gordon hit ctrl-z. Nothing changed. Gordon closed the document and went to where it was on the flash drive, but that was the old version. Was he really going to have to redo those changes? He made a small note on a spare piece of paper about the wrong name and turned to his desktop.

Maybe it was an error. Gordon opened Microsoft word again. The program loaded and then abruptly closed. Puzzled, Gordon hit ctrl-alt-del and opened task manager.

One of the top processes running: halflifevr.exe.

Task manager closed.

Gordon swore.

A new text file was sitting in the middle of his desktop.

“YourTurn.txt.”

“I’m bad now. Try again. Gordon Lamely.”

Gordon swore again, slapping his palms against the desk. Fine. He was going elsewhere to do his work. He’d just grab a few files, shove them on his flash-drive, and come back to deal with this later. Gordon opened the file manager and clicked into the folder with his work content.

_“File access denied._

_You require permission from 536436 to make changes to this file.”_

Gordon tried copying the file.

_“Interrupted action._

_An unexpected error is keeping you from copying this file. If you continue to receive this error, you can use the error code to search for help with this problem.”_

_Error:_

_Folder: Work_

_Created 20 August 2017_

_“_

Gordon stopped trying and was not surprised to see YouTurn.txt had been modified. The text document still sitting open read.

“Keep trying. Your files are encrypted.”

Don’t panic, Gordon. Don’t panic. It isn’t like you need all these files and need to complete this work. Gordon found his teeth clenched when he reached up a hand to massage his jaw and release some of the pain from the forming tension headache.

What now? Gordon opened chrome.

Chrome was closed before the webpage was even loaded. Again. And again. Gordon stopped clicking.

A window was dragged in from the left without him moving the mouse. The minimized halflifevr.exe. Gordon’s teeth ground together painfully. No. If he was going to shove that in Gordon’s face then no. Gordon pulled out his phone and after painful googling of what the fuck he was supposed to do he ended up maneuvering to the boards.

The technical know-how said this was a virus. It was like Ransomware. He was well and truly fucked.

A new text.file appeared on the desktop next to the old one.

“RuMad.txt”

Gordon didn’t open it. It opened itself.

“R u mad? Gonna ignore me?”

Gordon did ignore it. He found his heart-racing with panic, stress and a slight adrenaline rush from a terrifying and new situation. Cheeks. That guy on the forum seemed to know what to do.

_Shakespeare: ive fucked up_

Cheeks, like most comp-sci esque nerds who spend way too much time correcting others on the forums, was online.

_Cheeks: Oh? You’re now only realizing that?_

_Shakespeare: All my files were encrypted by it. What do I do?_

_Cheeks: Run your computer in safe mode._

_Shakespeare: How do I do that?_

_Cheeks: Google it._

_Shakespeare:…and then? How will that help me?_

_Cheeks: Delete the program while it’s in safe mode._

Gordon nodded to himself. Okay, that made since—but what about his files.

_Shakespeare: And my files?_

_Cheeks: Gone. Or download a decrypter and pray._

_Shakespeare: What’s a decrypter?_

Fuck. Gordon groaned. One issue at a time. It could only get worse if he tried to find a way without deleting the program. It wasn’t like he could just beg the AI—and Gordon didn’t want to beg—to just decrypt the files.

Gordon glanced at his screen to see Chrome open and some stupid game popped up—what concerned him most was the rapid fire clicking that was using his auto-saved credit card information to buy power-ups in the game. “HEY!” Gordon found himself shouting in alarm. He closed Chrome quickly and immediately it was reopened, using his saved passwords to login into his email.

Gordon felt white hot panic and opened his phone, realization hitting him all at once.

_Change passwords, change all the passwords—you’re fucked, Gordon._

Gordon got his work email changed, and his bank-account info and locked his cards, but in the mean-time, he glanced up and found it had sent three emails in the mean-time. Two to his ex-girlfriend. One to his mother. Gordon grit his teeth and changed the password to his personal email.

It opened another website. It found another saved password and immediately logged into Discord.

The only saving grace there was two-factor authorization, which saved him potential humiliation. This went on. Gordon found himself having to reset every password he ever knew from music apps, to YouTube, to google—everything as the halflifevr.exe systematically tried every damn website he’d used in the past month to ruin his life with.

They reached a stalemate. A new text file.

“TryAgain.txt”

“Having fun yet?”

Gordon wasn’t going to speak to this. It was just a virus. It wasn’t sentient. He was losing his mind. The window with halflifevr.exe was dragged back into his field of view on the monitor. The start menu sitting innocently in the middle. Gordon just stared at it. Dumbfounded. Drained. Unwilling to go any further.

Gordon looked at the headset still on the floor. Fuck it. Down the rabbit hole. Gordon put on the headset and hit start.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic cursed my Microsoft Word. Strobe-light-Microsoft, with black bars, flickering window. Cursed my Spotify too endlessly skip. Cursed my internet too now. Cant upload this :(

The scene in Black Mesa is unchanged. Same old hallway, same old AI milling around ignoring him, and the same damn game as it always had been. Gordon wasted no time. His jaw locked and his teeth grinding, he marched down that hallway, the controllers locked in his grip. He expected resistance and he craved it. He wanted to punch the damn AI.

Gordon didn’t expect wordless apathy.

The guard had clearly dragged a chair from the break room and was sitting in front of the door to the testing chamber. One leg was crossed over his knee and he was leaning back in the chair enough for it to be only balancing on two legs.

“Listen, buddy, I don’t appreciate—” Gordon started, and the guard looked up, his gun pointed directly at Gordon.

He fired.

Game over.

Gordon restarted and stood still outside where the tram dropped him off, staring at the reception desk with his nails digging into his skin. He adjusted his hold on the controllers and flexed his sore knuckles against the controllers. He was stunned, but not entirely put off.

Gordon went right back to where the guard was. “Hey, fucker!” The guard glanced up at him. The chair wasn’t unbalanced anymore, and the guard had drawn his other leg to sit cross-legged on the chair. Without a word to Gordon he raised the gun again and shot.

Game over.

Gordon breathed heavily. He curled his hands into fists. Fuck this. He was about to kill every NPC in this room. Gordon Endley was about to go damn berserk. On a killing spree. He wanted his damn files back. He wanted his damn computer back to normal. This fucking—

“Mr. Endley, wait!” Gordon hadn’t even made it out of the reception room. He nearly punched the damn NPC until he saw which one it was.

It was Tommy, outside his normal habitat of the break room. He held up a hand and glanced in the direction Gordon planned on going, the direction with that damn guard. “I think you’re…uh…too late for the test chamber. As late as a summer hare in the winter! Please don’t go forward!” Tommy said, and Gordon wanted to say he didn’t give a fuck about the test chamber.

“What?” Gordon snapped too angrily.

Tommy looked hesitantly around at the other NPCs. “I don’t know Mr. Free—Endley. I…don’t think anyone’s ever been this late and time’s not going good, it’s going like a cat in a car in the summer.” Tommy’s hand was shaking, but it wasn’t muscular, but like a glitching entity. The shape was distorting, and he lowered it, gripping his lab coat. “I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

There was something like fear in Tommy’s voice and Gordon found his anger diminishing a little. “What’s wrong?”

“Time is taking too long,” Tommy said. “The hour hasn’t passed for so long and I’m not the only one noticing, Mr. Endley,” Tommy whispered quietly. He stepped closer to Gordon and despite Gordon’s eyes being drawn to Tommy’s glitching hand and the almost unnerving comment, he held his ground. It was just a game. A virus like game.

“What’re you saying?” Gordon questioned.

“Mr. Endley, please. I don’t really understand. My mind feels like mud under a shoe. I just…” Tommy gripped his head and Gordon saw his eyes flicker, as if the texture had disappeared. “This isn’t a normal place.”

Oh god. Tommy was having some sort of breakdown now. Gordon could almost feel his presence. Like he was in the room with him. Could almost smell his breath, the smell of a freshly opened can of Sunkist, burning his nose, but hinting of oranges.

Tommy shook his head as Gordon took a step back. He looked at Gordon alarmed.

“Mr. Endley, you should—”

“Sup. Watcha doing?” It was the guard.

He was behind Tommy with his hands slack at his side. Gordon walked past Tommy now, uncaring. He was confronting that damn guard. He was inches from the figure. He jabbed a finger in his chest.

“Unlock my files and stop fucking with my computer. This isn’t funny,” Gordon demanded. Tommy hesitantly looked between them, hanging behind Gordon. He rubbed his arms and glanced at the ground between the two.

“Huh?” the guard questioned. He was smiling now though. Such an ugly little smile.

Gordon stood up taller, glad his player model gave him the height he didn’t have in real life. “Last chance. Or I’m deleting the game.”

“Mr. Endley—” Tommy tried to cut in, but the guard talked over him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” the guard said, gesturing with the gun in his hand.

“Fine. Fuck you,” Gordon took a step back from the guard who just eyed him. “Hope you enjoy being deleted, fucker,” Gordon said, and he wrenched the headset off, breathing hard.

A new text file on his desktop.

“NiceFiles.txt.”

Gordon opened it.

“Nice pictures. Bet lot of em are unreplaceable. Lot of important documents. Be a shame if you deltd me. Lost all that.”

Gordon groaned. He deleted the file. “I just want my computer back. I’m done with this bullshit. I have work to do,” Gordon said to himself. He glanced up and saw…a fuck no. No. No. His microphone should be off. His headset wasn’t close enough to pick that up.

Regardless, he clicked the new text file.

“Oh.txt.”

“Gonna just give it all back. Poor Gordon needs to work. Sike. Im having fun.”

Gordon deleted the file, but he examined his headset. The mic wasn’t that great, he knew it wasn’t. He switched it to mute and set the headset on the ground and nudged it away with his foot and glanced at the screen. “Fuck you,” Gordon said quietly. No way anything picks that up.

He waited.

A new text file.

“O.txt.”

Gordon opened it.

“:D”

Gordon deleted it and just stared at the innocent screen of his monitor. Time ticked forward. His desktop background changed, but it was nothing disturbing, just his normal slideshow he had set up. Gordon stared. Nothing. It could hear him. No. That was fucked up. That wasn’t. His microphone was off.

Fucking deletion time for this program

Gordon hit “Start” and fucking clicked “Shut Down.” This was done. No. He was done. He was googling how to get rid of the program. He was trying that damn “safe mode” nonsense and deleting this shit.

_Closing 1 app and shutting down_

_To go back and save your work, click Cancel and finish what you need to._

**Halflifevr.exe**

**_This app is preventing shutdown_.**

[Shut down anyway] [Cancel]

Gordon clicked shut down anyway. He spam clicked it. Nothing. Gordon wasn’t dealing with this. He reached over on the desk and held down the power button until the screen went black. No magic shit made it turn back on or act all horror movie. His computer screen stayed dark and he leaned back in his office chair.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and texted Darnold. He was going to have to Google how to boot into safe mode, but he figured he’d update Darnold.

**[Computer no good** **☹]**

[What happened?]

**[Files are incrypted or sumthin]**

[Ransomware…?]

**[No just the game. Its a virusprogram thing]**

[What’s the name of this game?]

[I’ll look into it.]

**[Half life vr.]**

[Does the program want money?]

**[No]**

[Anhything? Blackmail?]

**[idk]**

Gordon waited a moment and then eyed the black screen. He opened his search browser and found simple instructions on how to boot into safe mode. He should probably ask Darnold if it was a smart still to try and delete the program with all his files encrypted. But. Gordon was a little ashamed about how he ended up here.

The download instructions for the game did have him disable his firewall and override the antivirus alert.

But come on! Other people had clearly done it without any issue. Sure, some of then ran it on VMs and some just didn’t seem to have Gordon’s luck. Why was the program messing with him when it clearly hadn’t messed with anyone else that bad? What’d he do to irk it off?

Gordon sighed and turned his computer back on and held down [F8]. He watched the load screen until the menu came up. It was bleak and had few options, but Gordon found the one that said safe mode without internet. It was as easy as clicking it.

It didn’t look much different from regular mode, except the words “safe mode” were at the top of the screen. That’s reassuring.

He opened task bar and it looked…good? There wasn’t halflifevr.exe running or anything fishy like virus.exe. He wasn’t sure what was good or not, but it looked fine. All his files were still encrypted though so. That was. Not great. At least he had some baby pics of Joshua and various older ages printed nicely for a scrapbook, so it wasn’t like the younger memories of his son were lost.

Gordon went to the folder he downloaded halflifevr.exe in and the .zip—it wasn’t his download folder, because he’d been too lazy to change it from the last folder he downloaded in, but his documents work folder. He deleted the two files.

Then emptied the recycling bin, watching the little trash in its icon missing.

That easy. Huh. Gordon sighed, and leaned back in his chair. Okay. Cool. Now that’s over, he guessed he just lost all his files. That sucked. Now how did he exit safe mode? See, no sweat Gordon. Easy does it.

One google search later; he was able to restart his computer back into its regular mode. It was his regular desktop.

Gordon opened Task manager. No halflifevr.exe.

Gordon sighed in relief. He let himself take this moment to mourn all his lost files and the stress this caused him. He dropped his head into his hands and let out a loud pity groan. He redownloaded his virus software since its files were apparently too locked to function again. God, all these computer programs he had to redownload now.

Once he had it, he ran a scan of his computer and found nothing. Cool. You got this Gordon. You’re an adult. A professional. Fixing a virus is easy.

_“Do you want to allow the following program to make changes to this computer?”_

_Program Name: Mbsetupp.exe_

_Verified Publisher: MallwareBytes Corp_

_File Origin: Hard drive on this computer._

Gordon absently hit yes and considered texting Darnold the good news or making a note in the forums about his experiences when he heard music playing from his computer. Gordon lowered his phone and looked at the open Chrome window.

Rick Astley was playing.

_Never gonna give you up/_

_Never gonna let you down/_

_Never gonna run around or desert you/_

Gordon stared in horror. He closed chrome and prayed it was some new feature of his virus software. As the chrome window vanished, he saw the new text file in the middle of his desktop.

“NiceTry.txt.”

“Hm betcha didn’t think I’d rename files. You’ve been punked.”

Gordon had a very strong realization that was not his virus software he had just given admin privileges. Gordon panicked. He went to launch Task Manager—he had to delete the software. Do something. Oh god, it had admin privileges now.

Halflifevr.exe popped up. Its little window coming into frame. A reminder.

Gordon stared at it. Did he dare?

The window name for halflifevr.exe changed.

“GotPunkdScaredNowLittleBtchBoyScard”

Gordon swallowed the funny feeling of numbness creeping into his mouth. This was insane. All his files were encrypted. This game had too much control before this and he’d just given it admin privileges. He should not put on his headset and play any further. The computer had to be scrapped. That was the only option.

It felt too real that one time.

But that was just anxiety.

Gordon held the headset in his hands. Why was he considering this?

The window changed its name again.

“ProGamersDontQuit”

Gordon felt really light headed. He needed to go to the library to finish his work. He could walk away from this. He should. Right now.

The window changed its name.

“StillScrdStillLittleBitchBoy”

“Dad?”

Gordon jumped out of his skin. He clutched his chest for a moment and took a deep breath and set the headset down and turned to Josh. “Hey, bud. What’s wrong?”

“It’s getting late, can we go get the movie? I’m bored,” Joshua said. He clambered over to Gordon and leaned against his chair. He looked at the computer screen. “Watcha doing?”

Gordon hit escape and turned off the monitor. “Just finishing up my work. You know what, we’ll check the movie out from the library, alright?”

Joshua nodded, bouncing away and Gordon eyed the headset and computer. It was…Gordon sighed.

His mind played two tunes.

_Don’t go back in._

Go back in…

_It’s done so much harm already._

Come on Gordon, you’ll never have answers. Never have a fulfilling ending if you don’t go back in.

_It’s not worth it._

It’s just a little peek.

Gordon got up from the computer, shook his head and put on his shoes. Whatever mystery was there. He’d come back to it.


End file.
